An Unexpected Gentleman

by Laura Beers

“Oh, yes, miss, you’d honor us that much, ye would,” the blacksmith’s wife allowed.

  Picking up the sleeping infant, Amelia took a moment to smell the delightful aroma of the newborn. As she cradled the baby in her arms, swaying back and forth on her feet in the way women have done since time began, she felt a twinge of longing for a family. She had always wanted children, but it had always been her secondary focus. For so long, all she had ever wanted to be was a doctor. Would she ever find the time for a family?

  Lifting her gaze, she saw that Adam was watching her, his eyes full of tenderness. Their gazes locked, sharing an intimate moment. Her breath caught in her throat, and she had a hard time swallowing. It was as if he knew what she was thinking.

  Turning towards Amy, she asked, “May I examine you in the other room?”

  “I suppose so,” Amy agreed.

  Amelia handed the infant to Henry and smiled. “This will only take a moment.”

  After entering the tiny bedroom, Amelia closed the door behind her and took the time to examine the scar on Amy’s abdomen. Once finished, she shared the good news. “I don’t see any sign of infection, and this wound is healing very nicely. In a few days, I will remove the stitches, and you will be free to resume your regular activities, but please use some caution at first. Don’t lift anything heavier than the baby for two more weeks.”

  “We can’t thank you enough, Miss Wright…” Amy started sniffing and blinking rapidly.

  “You don’t have to thank me,” Amelia assured her with a shake of her head. “I did what needed to be done, that is all.”

  Amy’s eyes twinkled with merriment. “How nice that Lord ‘Arrington ‘imself escorted you to our cottage, aint it, miss?”

  “He happened to catch up with me on the ride over, and we decided to ride together,” she explained, hoping to downplay the significance.

  “Of course, miss,” Amy replied with a cheeky wink.

  Opening the door between the two rooms, Amelia saw that Lord Harrington and Mr. Stevens were outside. In a strange reversal of roles, it appeared that Adam was chopping wood as Henry looked on, cradling his infant in his arms and cooing as fathers do.

  Walking outside, Amelia stopped short at the unexpected sight of Adam’s muscular physique as he brought the ax down, causing a loud, splintering crash of wood. At some point, he had taken off both his riding coat and his waistcoat and draped them on a crude wood fence at the edge of the blacksmith’s garden.

  Mr. Stevens saw his wife and smiled tenderly. “’Ave ye told ‘er the good news yet?”

  Amy shook her head. “I was ‘oping to tell ‘er together, ‘Enry.”

  “What good news?” Amelia asked, reluctantly prying her eyes off Adam.

  Proudly, Amy announced, “We’ve decided to name our little wee babe Amelia, after you, Miss Wright.”

  Touched by their kindness, she replied, “Thank you. I am honored.”

  Draping his free arm over his wife’s shoulder, Mr. Stevens expressed, “If it warn’t for ye, miss, me wife and babe would’ve died that awful night. I can’t even begin to thank ye…” His voice faltered. “Your name’ll always be spoken with rev’rence in our ‘ome.”

  Her eyes brimmed with tears at their heartfelt words, and she blinked back her emotions. “You are both too kind. I thank you for your trust as well.”

  Feeling a hand on the small of her back, Amelia felt comforted by Adam’s touch. “Are you ready for me to escort you back to Twickenham Manor?” he asked.

  She shook her head. “No, let’s stop by Belmont Manor and play a game with Marian.”

  “Now that sounds like a grand idea,” he said, smiling down at her, causing her heart to suddenly flop over.

  This time, as their eyes met, Amelia realized with a shock that she was in deep trouble. At some point, and completely unintentionally, she had fallen in love with Lord Harrington!

  Chapter 12

  Two days later, Amelia was sitting contentedly in the library of Twickenham Manor with a stack of books piled high on the table next to her. She felt like a little girl in a candy store as she debated which book to read first. It was a tough choice, considering these prints were all in a museum in her day.

  Running her fingers over the spines, she murmured, “What to read? What to read?”

  “Gulliver’s Travels, Candide, Robinson Crusoe, A Modest Proposal, Moll Flanders,” she started listing.

  A voice broke through her musings. “Miss Wright, your presence is requested in the drawing room,” a young fae informed her.

  Lifting her head, she asked, “By whom?”

  “You’ll see,” was her vague reply as she turned to leave the room.

  Rising from the camelback settee, Amelia took a moment to smooth out her Pomona green dress, the color reminding her of a tart, green apple. Despite the many layers of clothing she wore under the gown, she had to admit this might be her favorite part of this adventure. The dresses made her feel so feminine.

  Walking down the hall, she stopped at a mirror and admired her reflection. Marie had done an amazing job of pinning her hair to the side in an elaborate hairstyle, and strands of hair were curled around her face. Despite not wearing makeup, she felt beautiful.

  Her parents, friends, and colleagues had always told her that she was attractive, but she had never believed them. But the way Adam looked at her made her feel like a queen. She pondered that thought as she headed towards the drawing room.

  Striding into the drawing room, her steps faltered when she saw a finely dressed Lord Wessex standing near the mantle, and he appeared to be in a staring contest with Peyton, only her eyes were narrowed to slits.

  Taking a moment to observe Lord Wessex, she had to admit that he did bear an uncanny resemblance to her mother’s nurse, Dustin. They must be distant relatives, she mused.

  Ignoring proper Regency etiquette, she drawled sarcastically, “Oh, good. Lord Wessex has come for a visit.”

  Adam’s amused voice came from behind her. “I hope I fare a better reception than Lord Wessex.”

  Spinning around, she saw Lord Harrington leaning against the wall, dressed in a blue riding coat, primrose waistcoat, and buff trousers. “Why were you hiding there?” she asked him.

  He chuckled, as he pushed off the wall. “My job was to ensure you didn’t run away once you saw Lord Wessex.”

  “I must admit I was tempted,” she admitted. “Although, I don’t understand why Miss Turner is staring daggers at him.”

  Adam walked up next to her and leaned in, allowing her to take in his scent of musk and leather, which was quickly becoming her favorite smell.

  “You missed Lord Wessex informing Miss Turner that the home office has officially stopped the inquiry of her being a spy.”

  “How gracious of him,” she replied, finding herself drawing closer to Adam.

  He gave her the crooked grin that she had become quite fond of. “And Miss Turner’s response was similar to the one you had at the ball.”

  Peyton huffed, “When Amelia informed me that you accused her of being a spy, I didn’t believe a man could be so thickheaded.”

  Instead of appearing offended, Lord Wessex stepped over to Miss Turner’s chair and placed his arms on the armrests, leaning in to her. “It’s not every day that I am insulted by such a lovely lady.”

  To Amelia’s surprise, she saw Peyton blush, but she maintained eye contact with Lord Wessex. “Well, it’s not every day that I am accused of being a spy,” she replied, cheekily.

  “Did you miss the part where I called you lovely?” Lord Wessex added in a rather hoarse voice.

  Watching this peculiar interaction, Amelia found she was enjoying Adam’s nearness, oblivious to the fact that Aunt Nellie had just walked into the room. “Lord Wessex, please remember that you are a guest in my home. You will treat my other guests in a dignified fashion,” she declared harshly.

  Lord Wessex pushed off the armrest and turned to face the matron of the manor. “I apologize, Aunt N
ellie. I was just taking a moment to apologize to Miss Turner.”

  “Interesting,” Aunt Nellie murmured. “It appeared that you were accosting the dear girl.”

  “That was not my intention,” Lord Wessex insisted, boldly winking at Miss Turner.

  Aunt Nellie lowered herself onto a floral, upholstered armchair. “When I was informed that you and Lord Harrington came to call, I thought it had been a mistake,” she stated. “Pray tell, what are your intentions for this visit, gentlemen?”

  Wiping a smile off her face, Amelia glanced at Adam, waiting to see his reaction. He was watching her, and his lips were twitching. For a moment, she enjoyed their private interlude but heard Aunt Nellie clear her throat, drawing their attention back to the group.

  Taking a step forward, Lord Harrington put more distance between them as he explained, “Lord Wessex and I hope that Miss Turner and Miss Wright are amendable to spending the rest of the day with us.”

  Aunt Nellie lifted her brow. “And why would they agree to that?”

  Lord Wessex gave her an apologetic smile. “I am hoping to make up for my inappropriate actions. I was overzealous in my approach to discover the truth. It was not fair of me to assume that Miss Turner and Miss Wright were spies solely because they are American.”

  “And based upon the fact that Miss Wright performed a caesarian delivery,” Adam interjected, giving her a private smile.

  Aunt Nellie leaned back in her seat, her eyes assessing them. “What do you have scheduled?”

  “It is a surprise,” Lord Wessex shared.

  “Ladies,” Aunt Nellie said. “What do you think? Are you agreeable?”

  Peyton nodded. “I think it would be fun,” she admitted, warranting a smile from Lord Wessex.

  “As do I,” Amelia confirmed.

  “Very well,” Aunt Nellie replied, standing up. “I hope you have an enjoyable time.” Stepping over to Lord Harrington, she patted him on the shoulder. “It is good to see you so happy, Adam.”

  The group watched Aunt Nellie depart, and Amelia turned her expectant gaze to Lord Harrington. “What do you have planned?”

  Adam came to stand in front of her, reaching for her ungloved hand and bringing it up to his lips. As he held her gaze, his lips kissed her knuckles. His lips were warm and lingered on her skin, causing shivers to cascade down her body. He grinned up at her. “Adventure.”

  “Adventure?” she breathed, unsure of his meaning.

  His smile turned roguish. “You came to England for an adventure, remember?”

  Good heavens! She couldn’t seem to think clearly with him standing so close.

  “I did,” she stammered.

  Turning back to include Lord Wessex, Adam revealed, “We are going to take you on a tour of London.”

  Sitting on the edge of her seat, Amelia sat across from Adam in the swaying carriage, her face tilting away from him, staring out the window, but he could still see the wonder in her eyes. The stuffy coach and the smell of the River Thames seemed to do little to diminish her excitement.

  The carriage jerked to a stop near the waterfront, and Adam watched as Amelia turned towards him.

  “Are we going on a boat?”

  Adam placed his hand out of the window and opened the carriage door, not bothering to wait for the footman. “I hope you are not afraid of water,” he said as he hopped out of the carriage.

  Amelia extended her hand towards him. “I’m not.”

  “Excellent. We are going to take a wherry.” Adam took her arm and placed it in the crook of his, leading her towards a group of red and green boats.

  Looking puzzled, Amelia asked, “I’ve heard of a ferry, but what’s a wherry?”

  Adam grinned. “It’s a sharp-bowed skiff used to carry passengers.”

  “Oars, oars!” the watermen started shouting.

  Adam pointed towards a red wherry, ignoring the uncouth jests coming from the watermen. “We are going to Vauxhall Gardens.” He jumped onto the skiff. “Have you been there before?”

  “No,” she admitted, as he held out his hand to help her onto the bobbing boat, “but I have read books that mention them.”

  Adam held out his hand to assist Miss Turner into the skiff. Once she was seated next to Amelia, Lord Wessex stepped down, and the waterman manning their wherry started rowing towards the gardens.

  “Why does London smell so awful?” Miss Turner asked, placing her gloved hand up to her nose.

  Before he could explain, Amelia replied, “What you are smelling is a combination of the trash accumulating on the streets, poor sanitary conditions, and the human excrement that is dumped into the River Thames.”

  The men stared at Amelia for a moment, then Adam broke the silence. “Have you been to the rookeries before?”

  “No.” She flashed him a bright smile. “I read a book about it.”

  Adam placed his hand on the edge of the boat. “You described it perfectly.”

  “I have always been fascinated by London,” she revealed. “My mother is English, and we used to spend our summers here.”

  The skiff tilted to the left as Lord Wessex reached out to hold the side of the boat. “I was not aware that you had a familial connection in England.”

  “You didn’t ask,” Amelia teased.

  Lord Wessex laughed. “Touché, Miss Wright.”

  Amelia’s smile faded, and a sadness passed over her, briefly dimming her whole countenance. Her eyes drifted over the river, and Adam leaned forward, placing his hand over her clasped hands. Rather than jerking her hands back, her gaze returned to him. She offered him a grateful smile.

  “Sorry, I’m afraid I was woolgathering.”

  Peyton smiled over at her. “Woolgathering, huh?”

  “When in London, do as the Londoners do,” Amelia said, returning her friend’s smile.

  Adam looked over at Lord Wessex, who just shrugged at him. “How long have you two been friends?” he asked.

  Amelia gave Peyton a sidelong glance before answering, “About two weeks?”

  “You seem close,” Lord Wessex commented.

  “We arrived at Twickenham Manor on the same night,” Peyton explained.

  The waterman ferried them to the wall near Vauxhall Gardens. Lord Wessex stepped out and assisted the women out of the wherry, his hand lingering on Miss Turner’s.

  The sun was starting to dip past the horizon as Adam paid the waterman. He offered his arm to Amelia as he said, “I hope you don’t mind, but we planned to eat supper here.”

  “I do not mind at all,” Amelia replied, tucking her arm into the crook of his, leaning into him.

  After paying their admission, they strolled inside and heard the orchestras warming up. The walkways and fountains were illuminated with brightly lit lamps, leading them to both temples and saloons.

  As much as he was enjoying the sights of the gardens, it paled in comparison to the light in Amelia’s golden-flecked eyes as she saw things for the first time. He chuckled as she refused to stroll at a ladylike pace. She seemed to absorb everything that she read or saw and wanted more.

  Leading Amelia back towards where the suppers were served, he asked, “Are you enjoying yourself?”

  “I could spend weeks here without getting bored,” she said in an excited tone.

  He chuckled. “Where would you sleep?”

  Lifting her head up to the sky, she replied, “Under the canopy of heaven.”

  Directing her towards an empty alcove, Adam waited till she took a seat at the table before sitting next to her. “If you stayed in England, then you could visit Vauxhall Gardens every day.”

  “I wish,” she murmured, “but… I have responsibilities at home.”

  “Which are?” he pressed.

  Amelia’s eyes strayed towards a lovely soprano singing with the orchestra. “The two most pressing are my mother’s ailing health and my career.”

  A servant girl placed a plate of a cold supper in front of them and two glasses of punch, as he
carefully phrased his next words. “What if you didn’t have to work to support yourself?”

  “I assume I would volunteer my time as a doctor to help others,” she responded, reaching for a piece of thin ham.

  “But what if you didn’t have to work as a doctor?”

  Amelia turned to face him, the light of the lamps illuminating her face. “You seem to think that I choose to work as a doctor just because I need an income.”

  He cocked his head quizzically. “Is that not true? Why else would you do so, if not to earn a living?”

  With a slight shake of her head, she revealed, “I have come from a long line of doctors, both male and female, and I chose to be a doctor because I am passionate about helping people.”

  Adam saw several emotions flitter across her face before she asked, “Why do you help your tenants, Adam?” She lifted her brow knowingly. “Do you help them because it is a duty, or do you help them because you care about them?”

  Adam shrugged. “I suppose it is a little of both.”

  “I’ve worked hard for many years to become a doctor,” Amelia confessed. “It is who I am.”

  “And I respect that, but you can’t work as a doctor in England,” he informed her, reaching for a piece of ham.

  “I know,” she replied after taking a sip of her punch, “which is why I must return home.”

  “You should stay,” he said in a surprisingly steady voice.

  Amelia shook her head. “I can’t. I don’t belong here.”

  “Stay with me,” he requested. It sounded bold enough to almost be a command.

  She tilted her head to one side and studied him, a small crease appearing between her brows. “What exactly are you asking me?”

  As he opened his mouth, John and Miss Turner walked into the alcove. “There you are,” John proclaimed. “We thought we had lost you.”

  After they were situated, Miss Turner accepted a piece of thin ham from the plate that Harrington offered, and her eyes grew wide with pleasure. “This ham is amazing.”

  With a side-glance at Amelia, he saw that her body was tense, and she remained fixated on the entertainment, clearly refusing to look at him. Bollocks! He had spoken too soon.